


Catharsis

by Joan_of_Arc



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 07:01:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15746676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joan_of_Arc/pseuds/Joan_of_Arc
Summary: A/U. The Great War for the Iron Throne is finally over, but not all the wounds have healed. A cathartic conversation between two people who have a lot to say to each other: Tyrion Lannister and Catelyn Stark.





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally written in Spanish as part of a what-if challenge.

Appearances could be deceiving. From afar nothing seemed to have changed: the same grey walls, the same façade, the same towers. It wasn’t until he was much closer that he could start to notice the differences. The first thing that caught his attention was the eerie silence and stillness. He remembered his last visit to the castle – well, second to last. He had come together with his sister and her husband, King Robert, and all the royal entourage. He remembered all the people coming and going busy with their daily chores, but at the same time anxious and excited about the royal visit. He remembered the whispers and the murmurs, the curious fingers pointing at the royal wheelhouse, the ladies taking sneak peeks at his sister and the men trying to look serious to impress the King. He remembered King Robert effusively greeting their host, his lifelong friend Lord Stark, and his wife to then go on to greet each of their children. He remembered how happy they all looked. _Oh, how things would change in a matter of weeks!_

Once he reached the gates he realized the awkwardness of his visit: a lonely dwarf with a bad reputation coming to visit Winterfell after everything that had happened carrying a message from the capital. He couldn’t fault the guards for eyeing him with suspicion. Just like he had done a hundred times during his journey, he felt for the satchel on his hips just to reassure himself it was still there. _No use coming all the way here only to lose my papers._

“I come to see Lady Stark” he said. The guards spoke to each other in whispers and told him to wait. And that he did. He waited. And what a long wait it was.

 

“Lord Tyrion” said a soft voice that brought back memories, some of which were pleasant and others he would rather forget. The voice sounded much more mature and seemed to have lost the innocence and freshness it once had. Sansa was probably the only Stark he really got to know and with whom he truly had a bond. _Well, of course, she is my wife!_ , he laughed to himself. Sansa was, indeed, his wife since the marriage had never been annulled. Maybe this visit could serve as the perfect excuse to ask for it. Surely she would appreciate it. The union was one neither of them had ever wanted. She had always envisioned herself married to a gallant knight with shining armor who would rescue her from the clutches of a ferocious lion. Well, maybe he was not a gallant knight, but he had certainly rescued her from a lion. And what a cruel and vicious lion his nephew had turned out to be! And as for him: he had never envisioned himself married to anyone. Disinherited by his father, a disgrace to his family and with a physique that certainly didn’t help, he would never make good marrying material for any self-respecting lady. _What kind of woman would want to marry an drunken imp with no inheritance and a bad reputation?_

“Lady Sansa” he returned the greeting. The girl looked taller than he remembered and she was not the scared defenseless little girl she had once been. The young lady standing in front of him looked stronger and more decided. He thought back to the last time he had seen her: running away into the crowd as he was arrested for a crime he had not committed. _A crime he would have liked to commit!_ He should hold a grudge and feel resentful, and, to his shame, for a time he did. But he couldn’t. He could understand the need to run away to safety.

“Thank you for coming. We appreciate the gesture to come all the way to our house to tell us … to show us … to give us the document” an uncertain Sansa stuttered and Tyrion nodded politely. “I’m sure she would appreciate it very much.” Tyrion nodded once more and waited for Sansa to lead the way. He was trying very hard to rein in the uncertainty that was starting to creep up into his mind upon the thought of meeting her again.

 

With the same elegance he remembered but without the lingering feeling of helplessness, Sansa walked him through the gardens to the front door. They crossed the Main Hall, took a turn down the hallway, went up a flight of stairs and stood in front of a wooden door. How somber it all looked, nothing like the merry place he had visited all those years ago. Sansa’s soft knock on the door brought him back to the present.

 

“It’s Lord Tyrion” she announced and they waited patiently until a barely audible voice told them to come in.  Before she opened the door, Sansa grabbed his hands tightly and gave him a reassuring smile. Nodding to let him know that everything would be alright, she opened the door to the solar and walked away.

 

Now he was all alone. A thousand times during his journey from King’s Landing to Winterfell he tried to imagine how it would feel to meet her again. The last time they had seen each other had been none too friendly. She had arrested him for a crime he had not committed! _What is it with mothers thinking I tried to murder their children?_ , he thought ruefully to himself. At the time he had truly hated her and wished her the worst. But in time he began to understand her a bit better. You could even say he pitied her: betrayed by a friend who caused her to lose almost everything she treasured. The parchment in his small satchel would not be enough to fill the hole this woman must have in her heart, but at least he hoped it would alleviate the pain.

 

He remembered she was tall. _Well, even Tommen is tall for me!_ Strong and fearsome but never losing her elegance. She was youthful and attractive. He remembered her blue eyes and long red hair carefully picked in an intricate braid. He remembered her dancing with Robert and holding polite conversations with Cersei in that feast all those years ago. He remembered her looking lovingly at her husband and admonishing her children with a tender strictness trying to get them to behave for the King. He remembered her as an intimidating woman at the Inn and a force to be reckoned with as they rode to the Eyrie. But he also remembered her broken and grief-stricken wailing uncontrollably before the bed of her son Bran as he lay still as death. Will she remember that he had come and paid his respects to they young Brandon back then? Will she have registered that tiny gesture amid her despair?  He couldn’t say. _And how will she remember me? Will she be appalled by my disfigured nose and the scar that splits my face in two? Will she still believe me a threat to her children and the world as a whole?_

 

The woman in front of him, however, was a far cry from the lively and active woman who could run her household and entertain his sister with the same countenance, or the ferocious wolf who would fight for her children tooth and nail and defend them with her own life if necessary, but neither was she that pitiful figure too broken to shed tears. Time had caught up with her, and life had beaten her at the game. She was still attractive. _She was still tall._ But her eyes had lost that sparkle and her long mane had lost its fire. She wore no intricate braid on her head, she looked thinner and seemed tired. _Tired of losing, I imagine._  

 

“Lady Catelyn” he greeted her politely and she returned the courtesy.

“Lord Tyrion.” She gestured for him to take a seat by the fire where she had placed a table with a jar of wine and two cups. She had obviously been anticipating this reunion as well.

“I assume you know why I’m here”

“Your letter did say. I appreciate the gesture.”

 

Tyrion nodded not really knowing what to say. He opted for approaching the table, serving two glasses of wine and offering her one. _Pouring wine for women, that’s something I can do and I’m good at._ She accepted the glass and took the chair next to him. They just stared at each other for the longest time not daring to utter a word. Finally it was she who broke the silence.

 

“You married my daughter” she said in a neutral tone with no hint of either accusation or gratitude.

“That’s true. It is not something I had planned or asked for.”

“I know. My daughter told me” she replied and lowered her gaze. “And I thank you for it.” Looking up again she added “Whether you meant it or not, you saved her life, and that’s something I will never be able to repay.”

“If it’s any consolation, the marriage was never consummated and may be annulled if you so wish it.”

“I appreciate it” was all she said. She took another sip of her wine and lowered her eyes again. Silence reigned in the solar once more.

 

“Lord Tyrion, I know the last time we saw each other was not in the best of circumstances. I would do anything for my children. I really thought you had tried to kill my son and were a threat to my family.”

“It’s not your fault” Tyrion replied focusing his gaze on the glass of wine in his hands. “To be honest, at the time I truly loathed you. When we were attacked by the mountain clans I prayed they would take you and kill you” he admitted with a mirthless smile to which she replied by arching her eyebrows. “What? You were arresting me for a crime I had not committed and would never even think of committing! But in time I understood. I understood why you did it and I confess I might have done the same had I been in your shoes.”

 

She looked at him quizzically. “It’s easy to see things in hindsight” Tyrion continued. “You had motives to think me guilty. Why would you believe me: a drunken womanizing Imp, and a Lannister to boot” he added pursing his lips in a sad smile “over a trusted friend from childhood? Anybody would have believed what you did. What? Don’t look at me like that!” he jested bringing a trace of a smile to her lips. “In time I began to see your point of view. And I must say, I appreciate your sense of honor, misguided as it may have been. With the same evidence against me, others would have killed me on the spot. My own family tried to kill me. You had the kindness of offering me a trial and respecting it. I know many people who would not have done the same.”

“It’s easy to see things in hindsight, as you say” she breathed out. “Would that I had known Littlefinger was a selfish cunning liar! Would that I had known back then what I know now, what would happen afterwards. I never imagined your father would react that way, laying waste to my family’s lands. However justified or honorable you think my actions may have been, nothing will take away the fact that it was them that led to the war.”

“Your actions were but one spark. The war would have started regardless. It was not your fault. Well, it kind of is. But not just yours. We’re all guilty to a degree _._ ” _You, me , your oaf of a husband, my whole fucking family, my sister, my spineless brother, my cunt of a nephew, my father, our good-for-nothing King Robert, your slimy conniving friend, your nut job of a sister. Should I go on?_

 

“Why did you send me my husband’s bones?” she asked changing the subject abruptly stealing a sideways glance at the satchel on Tyrion’s lap.

“Well, I could say I did it because it was the honorable thing to do, that it was so that your husband’s bones could rest in his home where they belong, or because I am a kind person who likes to do what’s right. The truth is I did it so I could negotiate with you. I wanted my brother, you wanted your husband.”

“I wanted him alive” she snapped with a sudden anger she tried to keep under control.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

“But why with me? Why didn’t you negotiate with my son? He was the King!”

“Let me remind you that my nephew was the King” he said evenly. “It was precisely for that foolish idea of becoming a King that we were forced to try to negotiate.”

“I told him it was a bad idea. I told all of them” she said sadly and her eyes got dark and misty.

“Maybe they should have listened to you. I negotiated with you because your son was a king, but you were a Mother. Only you would listen to me. Your husband’s bones were just a token, a first step to a bigger deal: your daughters for my brother.”

“Daughter, not daughters” she reminded him coldly. “You lied to me.”

“You didn’t negotiate” Tyrion retorted quickly.

“I tried. And to be honest, I did negotiate, only that I did it behind my son’s back and you never found out” she finished in a barely audible murmur, like she was reproaching herself or berating the gods for being so cruel.

“Your daughter is safe now” he offered.  

“True, but not thanks to you. And I’m missing one. I’m also missing a son and a husband.”

“I’m good, but not that good. There are things not even I can fix” he tried to lighten the mood but soon realized his jest was ill-timed and not welcome. “I’m sorry.”

 

An uncomfortable silence took hold of the room once again. She burned to see the document and he didn’t want to delay it any more than necessary. But neither dared take the first step.

 

“There’s something I need to know” she started apprehensively. When Tyrion nodded she closed her eyes briefly and took deep breath. “You said you never consummated the marriage with my daughter.”

“That is correct”

“Did Joffrey do it?” she asked taking the lid off something she had obviously been brewing for a long time. Her trembling hands were gripping the edge of the table tightly and her knuckles were going white.

“No. As far as I know he didn’t.”

“But he did make her suffer, did he not?”

Tyrion took a few seconds and nodded his head. “He mistreated and beat her. He would have his guards beat her every time he suffered a setback” he explained biting his lower lip not even trying to hide his anger at his nephew’s cowardly behaviour. “He would go on a rage every time your son Robb won a battle and would vent his frustrations on Sansa.”

“Oh by the Gods!” Catelyn wailed. “It was our fault. She was being punished because of us!” she lamented and brought her hands to her face to cover her eyes.

“Do not blame yourself my Lady. You did not know what was happening at the capital and had no idea what kind of person my nephew was” Tyrion tried to console her.

 

When she lowered her hands to her own lap, Tyrion placed his hand on hers in a comforting gesture. For a minute he feared her reaction, but was pleasantly surprised when she not only accepted the gesture but then laid her head on his shoulder. He could hear her moan softly and paid attention to her choked breathing. She was not crying: such a proud woman would never cry in front the likes of him, but she had certainly lowered her defenses. It might have been the war and all the irreplaceable losses. It might have been the document he had brought and the wounds it would close. It might have been the wine. _It might have been my irresistible charm …_

 

“The worst is over” he said running his hand softly through her hair. “I can’t give back everything you have lost, but you must rejoice in what you got back. You are safe at home with one of your daughters and your two youngest sons. The realm is at peace and we have a new King who does not want to go through the same mess again. Tommen is a nice boy. And don’t forget, the North has a friend in the Hand of the King – me.”

 

They remained sitting next to one another, he running his hand through her hair and she breathing heavily into his shoulder. Suddenly she jerked up, composed herself and sat up straight facing him. She took a sip of her wine and dried a few rebel tears off her face. Her demeanor changed and her gaze turned serious.

“May I?” she asked reaching out with her hand towards Tyrion’s lap.

 

Tyrion smiled timidly and reached into his satchel. He pulled out the rolled parchment with the royal seal. It came addressed to her name. She took it with trembling hands and weighed it, as if trying hard to gauge its contents without having to open it. Apprehensively she broke the seal and set her eyes on the words. When she had finished reading, she looked up and smiled a sigh of relief.

 

“This is it. It is over”

 

 

*****************************

_To: Lady Catelyn Stark._

_I hereby publicly announce the posthumous pardon granted to Lord Eddard Stark, wrongfully accused of treason and executed for said crime._

_King Tommen Baratheon._

 

 

THE END


End file.
